This has been sitting around unfinished for... like... ages. It's still unfinished but I'm tired of sitting on it like this. Here, you have it. mneh. It's probably not as good as the first one because 1. I am way too lazy rn to spell check, 2. the end is pretty much 'AND THEN THEY DID THIS AND THAT'S THE END", and 3. i really don't care anymore. It all sucks so whatever.
KURT VS. THE FERAL FANGIRLS
WHEN WE LAST LEFT OUR GAY HEROES, Blaine had just delivered the ass-whopin' of the century to THE WRITER, who ran off with Troll Murphy to make a terrible TV show about something I don't care about that's supposed to be creepy, but is really just all SEXSEXSEX! SCARYTHING MORESEX! Somehow we are not shocked.
At the present moment Kurt and Blaine are once again, for the love of GOD, hanging out at the Lima Bean. Really, since the author has yet to fix the fourth wall, she's just gonna hop right in here and say that she hopes the Lima Bean has some kind of point card, wherein you buy twelve coffees and you get a free cupid cookie, or a back massage, or like a free t-shirt or SOMETHING. These boys ought to be swimming in Lima Bean swag at this point. At the very least all that caffiene ought to have given one of them a freaking UTI, but that's gross so that's not gonna happen. Maybe next time they have a date they'll get crazy and have dinner at Breadstix! Insanity!
So anyway, Kurt and Blaine are getting their heroin-I-mean-coffee fix at the Lima Bean. They are minding their own bzns, being super cute and couple-y, gazing lovingly at each other. Of course, Blaine leans over to give Kurt a nice little kiss, but we are afraid of the viewer's sensitivities and we are going to pan away and focus on a fat soccer mom having her third caramel machiatto and reading Cosmo, so that you can just see Blaine lean over. Maybe he's sticking his tongue right down Kurt's throat, or maybe he's just whispering something platonic in nature. Maybe Glee is supposed to be treating gay couples the same as straight couples, or maybe Glee is full of shit. WHO KNOWS.
As Kurt recovers from being ravished, because seriously RIB+ we're not fucking stupid, Blaine leans back in his chair and is all smug because he knows he's a sexy motherfucker. Before he can say something adorable and snarky-but-well-meaning about the effect his sweet, sweet kisses have on his gorgeous bf, his DAPPER SENSES start a-tingling.
"Hey, Kurt. Do you feel like we're being gawked at?"
Kurt gives his head a little, miniscule shake. He certainly wouldn't want to mess up his hair! He'd have to get out his hairspray and slide-rule and like ten diagrams. EVERY HAIR MUST BE IN THE CORRECT PLACE. "Uh.. I dunno. Why?"
"Well," Blaine says, looking around with shifty eyes, "you know staring at people is so rude, so you know how that makes me antsy."
"Right," Kurt says.
"Well I'm feeling antsy. Like someone is staring at me."
Kurt joins Blaine in looking around, but Kurt doesn't give a shit so he's more blatant about it. Blaine starts hissing at Kurt to not be so freaking obvious but Kurt Hummel is a BAMF and does what the fuck he wants.
Kurt spots a group of teenaged girls sitting in the corner, all huddled around their table, each with a laptop open to tumblr. Instead of looking at their laptops with zoned-out expressions (typical of fannus girlius in their natural habitat), the girls are staring unblinkingly at Blaine. They all look certifiably BATSHIT. Kurt knows that these are fangirls. A particular breed of fangirls. FERAL FANGIRLS. He turns slowly to Blaine, who is hunkered down in his chair in an attempt to hide from the staring. "Blaine. Don't freak out. It's fangirls."
"Oh my God," Blaine says, his eyes going wide in fear. "What kind? Is it just excitable-but-well-meaning fangirls? Cause I can just sign some shit, give a few awkward hugs and do some uncomfortable-looking photos to get away from those."
"No," Kurt says.
"Are they the serious-business kind, then? The ones that have a PhD in fandom wank and want to wax philosophical about how I changed their life?"
"No again," Kurt says.
Blaine tuts. He hates this freaking game. "Okay... Are they the crazy ones that scream every time I do something commonplace like cuss or lick my lips or whatever?"
"No," Kurt says, "but to be fair it is really sexy when you do those things. I'm gonna tell you, since you suck at guessing and I'm getting impatient. It's feral fangirls."
"WHAT," Blaine says, really loud so that conversation in the Lima Bean Church of Klaine haults for a second. He blushes and tries to ignore all the staring going on right now. He might combust. That would be just terrible, leaving that big mess for the Lima Bean employees to clean up.
The fangirls seem to sense that our boys are talking about them. They immediately start making their way over; some of them hobbling sluggishly, some of them go all Spiderman and start climbing the walls, some of them just fall onto the floor and start spasming in fangirl overload.
"BLAAAINE~" they wail like zombies. "WE LOOOVE YOU"
"Holy shit," Blaine says, "What do we do, Kurt?"
"I suggest beating their asses down."
"But that would be so rude!" Blaine flaps his hands around frantically. "They're the ones that pay thirty bucks for a freaking fake silk, made-in-Vietnam-by-lepers tie that's a knock-off of a Warblers tie, they're the ones that make my shows sell out, they're the ones that put me where I am now!"
Kurt cocks his adorable head to the side with a very cute little frown, looking like the most precious little fuzzy kitten you ever did see. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I don't even know!" Blaine cries.
But then the fangirls are upon them. They pounce on Blaine and it's like a dog pile, with his little hobbit ass somewhere near the bottom. He cries out as they pile on top of him, all of them screaming gibberish and grabbing at whatever part of him they can. The girls are screaming and wailing like banshees and Blaine's voice is mingled in with them, shouting "GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF I CAN'T BREATHE OH MY GOD"
Kurt simply sits there, watching, with a disgusted look on his face. He lifts his feet off the floor as a fangirl rolls away with what looks like a scrap of Blaine's freaking shirt. She presses it to her face and sniffs it deeply, her eyes crossing. Kurt decides to ignore her once she starts petting it and speaking lovingly to it.
After taking a sip of his coffee, inspecting his nails, realizing he needs a manicure, and then deciding he'll schedule himself an appointment later, Kurt says offhandedly, "You okay down there, honey?"
"GOD, NO," Blaine says, his arm flying out between two writhing fangirl bodies, his hand grasping desperately for anything that'll pull him the fuck out. "THERE ARE BOOBS IN MY FACE, FUCK MY LIFE!"
"And you thought you were bisexual," Kurt says with a chuckle.
"HELP ME, PLEASE," Blaine says, always a gentleman.
"Oh all right. For crying out loud, Blaine, you could just grow a pair and tell them to fuck off. When fangirls start stalking you, it's time to be a dick." Kurt sighs and sets his coffee down. Then he walks over to the rabid pile of fangirls.
And then Kurt turns the BAMF up to eleven.
"Pardon me, ladies!" he says in his falsely-sweet bitch voice, and the girls all stop to look up at him with unfocused eyes. "I'll have to ask you disgusting, classless swine to stop manhandling my boyfriend. You see there is a line with fandom, and you girls must have left it behind, along with your sanity and social lives. If you don't get your unwashed hands off my man I won't hesitate to slaughter you like the cows you are with my secret ninja skills."
The girls start backing away slowly from Blaine, who lays dazed on the floor, his clothes all ripped up.
One of the fangirls gets to her feet. "You're just jealous that you don't have as much sex appeal as Blaine! You're an asexual stereotype that The Writer uses as a soap box!"
The other fangirls gasp at her tenacity. Blaine's jaw drops. "Oooh no she didn't," he says. "Oh man I am getting the fuck outta here." And he promptly scrambles up onto his bare feet (the fangirls stole his grandpa shoes) and dives behind the counter where the Lima Bean employees are cowering.
Kurt has that look on his face, you know the one. It's that look he gets whenever he lays eyes on that slimey douchebag, Seblister Smallpox. "Oh, bitch, I hope you have insurance."
Much much later, Kurt and Blaine are sitting in the rubble of the Lima Bean, talking to the police.
"Oh, officer," Kurt sighs dramatically, "I don't know what happened. One minute Blaine and I were doing homework and making plans to volunteer at an old folk's home, and doing many other cliched 'wholesome' things, when suddenly a pack of rabid girls showed up."
Blaine, who is still mostly naked, nods. "Yeah, yeah. They were wearing leather jackets! They came in on motorcycles! They smoked cigarettes! Clearly they were bad people!"
"Clearly," one of the officers says, and he nods to Kurt, prompting him to continue.
"So anyway, they came in and challenged Blaine and I to a game of Bullshit."
The second officer, who is taking notes, raises a hand. "Now wait a minute, fellas. What's Bullshit? Sounds DUBIOUS."
Kurt and Blaine feign surprise and shock at this. "Oh, no!" Blaine says. "It's just a card game! Honest, it's just a card game."
Kurt nudges Blaine to get him to shut up. "Yes, it's a card game. The bad girls challenged us and we accepted. And needless to say, after several grueling hours of lies and deceit, and a lot of coffee, Blaine and I emerged the victors."
"They didn't like that," Blaine says in a hushed voice. "They got really mad."
"They were crazy!" Kurt cries.
"Insane!" Blaine also cries.
"Okay, boys," the first officer says. "I think that'll be enough for now. Don't you worry, we'll find these bad kids and haul them off to juvie. That'll show 'em." And then the cops leave.
Kurt sighs in relief. "That was close."
"Yeah, no kidding!" Blaine hisses. "Kurt, you blew up the Lima Bean!"
Kurt shrugs. "It needed a remodel anyway."
"I'm not even sure how you blew up the Lima Bean!"
"Very simple, really. Have you even seen Sucker Punch? Tie a stick of dynamite to a propane tank!"
"You tied a pipe bomb to a molotov cocktail!" Blaine shouts, his eyes bugging out.
"Well, I was all out of dynamite after the run-in we had with the Kurtofsky shippers." Kurt says calmly, inspecting his nails. "That reminds me, honey, we need to get some more dynamite. Put it on the list for me, please."
Blaine groans, but pulls his phone out all the same. He finds their shopping list. Well, the shopping list he keeps for Kurt, anyway.
Stuff We Need
Gunpowder
Glitter and Sequins
New Hot Glue Gun because FINN BROKE MY OLD ONE. NEVER FORGET
Machine Gun
Napalm (generic brand)
Gummy Bears
Those cinnamon bun flavored lollipops Blaine likes so much
Blaine gets all excited at the mention of his favorite candy, but remembers he is supposed to be exasperated. So he rolls his eyes and types in 'dynamite'. "How many sticks do you want?" he asks, with the air of someone who has just given up.
"Oh, I don't know..." Kurt says loftily. "We got, what, twenty last time? With all this drama going on we'll need at least fifty."
Blaine just nods once and adds 'dynamite x 50' to their shopping list. "Okay. So, what else were we gonna do today?"
Kurt taps his chin, staring skywards as he thinks. "Hmmm... We could always go have mindblowing kinky sex."
Blaine sighs and leans sadly against Kurt. "We had mindblowing kinky sex last night. Can't we have sweet, meaningful sex tonight?"
"I don't feel like it very much," Kurt says. "All this exploding and shit has gotten me all riled up. I am like full to the brim with testosterone. I will meet you half way, though, if you'd like."
"Yeah?" Blaine says, perking up a bit. "How do you plan on doing that?"
It is later (again), probably after dinner. Kurt and Blaine are sitting on the couch of the Hummel-Hudson living room, watching the obligitory Disney movie. Blaine is all snuggled up on Kurt, obviously. And Kurt is obviously playing with Blaine's hair, which is obviously free of gel. It would be a perfect moment with the Klaine theme song playing in the background if it wasn't for Blaine's pout.
"I thought we were gonna have meaningful sex. I thought 'meeting me half way' meant AT LEAST a blowjob," he says.
Kurt tuts softly and shakes his head. "No, we're going to lay here and cuddle. You're supposed to be a cuddle whore, remember?"
Blaine just sighs. "Yeah, I guess," he mutters into Kurt's thousand-dollar silk pajama shirt. "I just... I really wanted that blow job."
"BLAINE, SHUSH," Kurt snaps, flailing his hands around. "Pocahontas is about to sing Just Around The Riverbend. We have to sing along. It is a rule now."
And with that, they sang along to a Disney movie whilst Blaine lamented not getting a nice, quality BJ. THE END HOORAY!
that's it. i would do a better ending but no one's gonna fucking read this pile of shit. OH WELL
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